HAVISHANTA
by NothingIcanSay
Summary: Where do you find yourself when you die and you have no option to go to heaven or hell just yet? You find yourself in a middle ground of course. But what about when you aren't exactly dead or alive?Is it either you die? Or you find a way to reclaim your spot in the world of the living?


I am Mori-Ai. So, I did not steal this work of fanfiction. I'm slowly trying to rebuild the story since the original plot had began to revolve around the OC's more (since I wrote it in a notebook way back). Why did I make a new account? Simple. I simply lost all ways to get a hold of my old account, Mori-Ai. HAVISHANTA is the only fanfic I will take from my old account and re-upload here. My writing style has changed over time and I'm giving it a second shot. Well, I hope you enjoy the re-take.

**WORD COUNT: **1,360

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**HAVISHANTA**

"_What would you do?_

_If I told you that you weren't dead yet?"_

* * *

It felt strange. His back was cold; it was quite damp. Not to mention, whatever he was lying on felt so soft. His nose was stinging. It felt numb; almost as if it didn't exist. His fingers were all the more pitiful. They felt like icicles. It would be a shame if they fell off any minute now due to this sensation. And slowly, his eyes fluttered open and he sits up, swinging his legs over the...bench? He places a hand on his forehead as his eyes remain down cast, before he notices he was wearing fingerless winter gloves

Winter gloves?

He abruptly looks down and realizes his royal garments were gone. They were replaced by a brown winter coat, simple loafers and a pair of slacks. His attention was eventually called by the sound of water rushing behind him and he looks back to see a fountain. It was the fancy type you'd normally see in some grand plaza, with marbled angels and water spewing out of the jars they were holding. It was strange to see a fountain functioning under this wintery weather. Surrounding the fountain were other benches besides the one he was on.

It was an odd scene change. There was no more procession, the sound of the crowd cheering upon his death was no more. The convoy containing the supposed criminals meant to be executed were bone. Nunally was gone and there was no Suzaku dressed in his Zero gear, holding the blood stained rapier in his hand.

_There was no Zero._

He was eventually confused by this change of events. Where was he exactly? He died in a matter of minutes. How'd he get to this place so quickly? Or was he just in a peaceful slumber on this fine winter day, dreaming up all those events of Zero, Charles, C.C. and the immortality tattoos and his mother's evil plans?

No, it was real. It was certainly real. He felt all the pain of his injuries. That was proof enough it had all happened. If those events were all just a dream, he would've jolted awake. But he didn't. There was only one plausible thing he could draw from this now.

_Was he in purgatory?_

He was no devout. Yet he believe in things such as purgatory, heaven, and hell. He had expected to land in purgatory, considering all his good intentions he aimed to achieve in all the wrong manners. He expected purgatory o be some sort of a tiny world, like that of The Little Prince's from that book only completely barren and a little larger where he would be left to wander the rest of his spiritual days, walking about and thinking while being so utterly alone. He's never expected the cobble stone streets or the little Victorian era styled town, complete with the houses and store-fronts. The people wandering around all looked modern though, in the way they were dressed. Though it irks him that their skin colour had the bluish hue of the dead.

_Was he, perchance, dead as well?_

"Hello,"

He was startled at that awkward greeting. The voice sounded rather grim, if you asked him. He quickly turns to look at the person beside him only to be astounded to see pixels forming the figure of a small teenager holding a clipboard as he flipped through the papers. He was quite a sight to behold, with his lips dancing in a blue to white gradient and his choppy silver hair. His eye lashed were enchanting as well, with the way water droplets had seem to have been frozen on them. "You're Lelouch Lamperouge, am I correct?" He asked, as his icy blue eyes diverted their attention to Lelouch's magenta ones.

Lelouch remained silent, simply astounded by what had just happened before him.

Finally the child sighs and flips all the papers back. "Ah, it seems like you aren't. That boy is lucky to have escape death once more." And he hopped off the bench Lelouch was sitting on and had practically begun walking away until Lelouch had grabbed his shoulder with the question of "Who are you?"

It was clear he was demanding answers to his questions. There were too many of them in his brain as it was and he needed answers. And the kid pouts a little before replying. "Tsumetai." He merely answers before shrugging Lelouch's hand off his arm. "Are you Mr. Lamperouge?" He asked once more.

"Yes."

He cracks a crooked grin at Lelouch before climbing back up onto the spot beside Lelouch, jovial that his client has finally arrived. "I've been waiting for you." He said with a nod, flipping through the papers once more before ticking something on a certain sheet. "You're not exactly dead." The teenager said, scribbling a few things on the sheet as well. It was a fast answer to the question Lelouch had not voiced out, but was wondering about. "You're in a coma. Everyone else in here is dead though. But don't remind them. They bite." the teenager added.

"Where am I?" Lelouch finally asks, something that makes Tsumetai pause from all his scribbling and look at his with a hard stare. Lelouch couldn't tell if he was angry, or if his features were simply that screwed up because he looks like he died in a human freezer at full force to make him look like he died in Antartica.

"You're not in heaven or hell. It's...purgatory, so to say. People are often sent here if they have done something they heavily regret all their lives and had never resolved it. That or they've done something hella horrible and never got forgiven." He answered as he flipped the papers on his clipboard back in place.

Lelouch was about to ask what would happen if someone dies here only to get one answer- "No. Think of it as a video game. You die, you respawn, you relive your life on this same realm. You could try to kill me and I will reappear in the alpacas, I guess." Tsumetai says with a chuckle.

Lelouch stares at him with disbelieve. "I wasn't-" "—Asking that. I know. I'm just telling you because that's in the F.A.Q. page of our manual. We all get asked these stuff." He says, flapping his hand. "If you ask me one of the commonly asked question, I'll hit you with my clipboard and tell you to read it."

"All new comers end up with you?"

_THWACK!_

"Read it."

Lelouch rubs the part of his head Tsumetai had just hit with his clipboard before taking the "weapon" used. The first page was strange; it looked like a book cover complete with title and author. When he flipped the next page was more of the copy right stuff and the next page was a table of contents. He found this so weird-why didn't they make a book instead?

He flips to the F.A.Q. page and reads over it quickly before handing it back to his guide. "So you're the default guide for most souls if the other guides aren't available." He says. Tsumetai nods as he reclaims his clipboard. "you were originally assigned to Terullium, though. If she refused, you were supposed to go to Javier..."

"And?"

"They all simply refused. I was on the bottom of the waiting list for you and funny how I ended up with you." The guide says with an icy laugh before slapping Lelouch. "Don't get a head of yourself. It's not normally a good sign. They hate handling VIP's. There's nothing on the "Beginner's guide to Reaping' about you." Tsumetai answered before crossing his arms over his chest.

"What do you mean?" That was the only thing Lelouch could think of. There were more questions in his mind now. What did Tsumetai mean by VIP? How many guides were there exactly? What the hell is Havishanta really anyway?"

"You're not alive, nor are you dead. Uh...think of it in a way that you're a dream. The choices you make here will decide your place in the world of the living or the world of the dead."

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And my writing's improved. You could tell, I guess. The story's word count double from the flimsy, 603 words to a booming 1,360 wall of introduction. Have fun. Like all my other stories. The updates will be SO random, you might wanna quit on me.


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